


Alive

by LittleSpider



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, Harry Hart Lives, Hurt Harry Hart, One Shot, Other, Post V-Day, Statesman, implied Hartwin, implied merwin, tired Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider/pseuds/LittleSpider
Summary: Merlin has been working over time and well out of his comfort zone since V-Day but an expected phone call brings unexpected news.Written based on a very emotional Whatsapp exchange.(Please note, this is not in the same time line as 'Convalescence -http://archiveofourown.org/works/6483079)A gift for Kettlepillow





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kettlepillow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettlepillow/gifts).



Merlin rubbed his forehead and sighed, the barrel of the pen resting against his furrowed brow as he looked over the medical assessment of Percival.

_Broken arm, shattered wrist, dislocated shoulder._

He had been on a mission with Bors at the time when Valentine's signal had been activated and although neither of them had a SIM card, their civilian pilot did.

The result had been a violent cockpit altercation that had nearly ended in all three men losing their lives as they fought to the death.

Fortunately, as soon as Eggsy had impaled Valentine through the heart on his assistant's prostheses blade ( _as much as he wrote it, it was never going to sound credible_ ), Bors had come to his senses and stopped trying to strangle Percival and had taken the controls again of the plane.

The pilot had a severe concussion that would take some recovery, and Percival was still in the medical unit.

Merlin signed off the proposed treatment as acting Arthur and moved on to the next one. Mordred's funeral expenses.

Mordred had been waiting for a tube train when the signal went off.

He had died quickly when someone threw him under the train at Tottenham Court Road. It was almost merciful in his effectiveness.

Merlin looked over the expenses, checked that they had selected a closed casket funeral, and then signed it off, making a mental note to add his name to the list of agents to drink to.

Mordred, Arthur (a mere formality) and Galahad.

Merlin put his pen down, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyebrows and squeezed his temples to try and work some of the tension out.

It had been chaos since getting back from Valentine's base. As Kingsman's oldest active agent he was responsible not only for getting things back in order as a Quartermaster but also as the acting head of Kingsman.

The telephone rang.

He looked up, replacing his glasses and reached for the phone.

“...Hullo?”

“Hey Merlin, how's it hangin'?”

Jack.

Jack Daniels.

Statesman.

Harry.

Merlin processed the reason why he could be calling at an embarrassingly slow rate before realizing he'd asked for Jack's help in repatriating Harry's body back to the UK.

The idea of him lying in some cold morgue in Kentucky along side half of the victims of Valentine's initial test made him feel sick inside so in the middle of the night when unfinished paperwork and sleeplessness was keeping him from rest, he called up and asked a favour.

Jack had kindly agreed in a heartbeat saying it'd be an honour.

A funeral would provide closure, a sense of normality.

“...Good...” Merlin stole a quick look at his watch. “...Afternoon, Jack. What can I do for ye?”

“We've found him, Merlin.”

Merlin's heart sank a little.

He knew that would be the response to the request of finding Harry's body.

The Statesmen were bloody good at what they did and he'd asked Jack with good reason. He never backed down from a challenge and didn't give in.

It was not good news, but it was the best they could have hoped for.

Merlin reached for the notepad he'd been scribbling on for most of the day and picked up his pen.

“...Alright Jack. Thank you. If y'can just tell me the flight he'll be on, I'll arrange t'have a hearse pick him up.”

“...Merlin, y'misunderstand me. He's alive.”

The phone slid into the cradle of Merlin's hand as he processed what Jack had just said.

 

_'He's alive'_

 

His heart began to tremble, beating rapidly in his chest, thudding against his throat that had closed up and his eyes that had suddenly become very difficult to close without them hurting.

“...Merlin?” Jack prompted. “...Merlin, are y'there buddy?”

“..I'm...I'm here...Jack.” Merlin replied thickly.

A million questions burst into Merlin's mind like urgent, loud fireworks over a turbulent looking sky.

“How is he, Jack? Is he awake? Is he breathing alone?”

“...Wellllllll...” Jack began with his usual Texan twang. “...He sure as hell ain't as pretty as he used t'be. But I reckon he'll live to die another day.”

“ _...Cheeky...bastard...”_

Merlin's heart skipped a beat as he heard a familiar, but weak voice he thought he'd never hear again in the background of wherever Jack was.

“...Harry...” Merlin felt himself murmur, a cool sweat of relief pushing itself out across his hot skin.

“When shall we expect you? He'll need a chaperone. He's not in great shape and I figured you'd want to do the honours?”

“I can be there in Nine hours.”

“10-4, Good Buddy. Catch you later.”

Merlin put the phone down before closing his eyes, resting his head forwards slightly, balling up his fists and pressing them against his eyes and allowing himself just a few minutes of relief.

It was like being showered in cold water after being on fire for weeks.

Harry was alive.

 

*

 

The private flights had been chartered, he'd made arrangements for cover during his absence, and he had grabbed his passport, coat and his mission bag from his room as he was heading out of HQ.

He suddenly realized. He had forgotten something VERY important.

 

 

*

 

Eggsy's concentration whilst focusing on his targets on the range was unparalleled. It took an impatient Merlin at least six heavy thuds on the glass and finally a complete shut down of the training programme before Eggsy turned around and yelled a muffled:

“WHAT?!” through the glass.

Merlin beckoned him and walked him out to the grey-toned waiting area before gesturing to the couch there.

“...The fuck have I done now?” Eggsy asked with an exasperated expression, wearing his siren suit and looking every inch the training agent he had done before V-Day.

“Eggsy, sit down.”

“Merlin. I'm goin' for breakin' my own record here.” he said in a huff, sitting down heavily and folding his arms. “Just tell me what I fucked up on and and let me get on wiv it.”

“Harry is alive.”

The change in Eggsy's expression was expected but heart stopping. His eyes softened, he dropped his folded arms. But Merlin did not have time for this.

“...You what?”

“He's alive, Eggsy.” Merlin replied, keeping a hold on his impatience and giving Eggsy the chance to process what he himself had only just come to terms with.

“...You...” he looked around, helplessly, his eyes moving rapidly around the blank room for something, anything to catch focus on.

To make sense of what he had just heard.

Merlin would have moved forwards to counsel him, had they the time but he needed action. They had an eight hour flight to talk, mourn, and celebrate on. But now, they time was not their friend.

Finally, Eggsy settled on the question he needed the answer to.

“...How?”  
"I don't know.” he admitted. “But, There's a flight to Kentucky departing in...” he consulted his watch. “40 minutes. I can have your schedule cleared. Are you coming or not?"  
Eggsy stood up rapidly, unbuttoning his siren suit as he headed for the door.  
"...the fuck we waiting' for? C'mon!”

 


End file.
